Woke up in a lorryload of pain today. My BF who is currently on holiday, offered to nurse me/do unmentionable things to me if I sacked work and stayed in bed. Unfortunately I am a sucker for punishment and don’t want us to lose our home and cats so grudgingly went to work instead.
It’s going to be a hard day; excruciating pain at my desk makes it hard to concentrate on the job at hand and slapping on a smile is easier said than done. It can be practically impossible to grin through pain. You can't focus on little else. And don’t even start me on the fatigue! No amount of sleep is ever enough. So when your colleagues arrive and complain of how 'tired' they are, it can often be a major tolerance tester.
As with most days I’ll have my daily dose of ‘suggestions’ on how to best treat my disease. Before 9.30 yesterday I was suggested Manuka Honey and Aloe Vera. On both occasions I smiled and said “well if it works for you that’s great” then silently considered all the ways in which I would gut them and bury them under my patio if I could get away with it/had the stomach for it.
Being offered suggestions on what we should and shouldn’t do is a common aside in living with IBD. What we eat is watched and judged (“should you be eating that?”), how often we visit the bathroom is monitored (“you were away a while…”), how we look (“well you look ok…”), and how often we are unwell is pressed (“but you were sick last week…”). Those are just a few of the enquiries we encounter on an almost daily basis.
Some of these comments can come from loved ones though, and in almost all of these cases; said with care and concern. On the whole I try to remember that the majority of people proffering advice on my illness are doing it with good intentions and a good heart. I'll try to remember that later today when I'm water-boarding them with Manuka Honey.